


Keep You Here

by AvarieNiceDay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Typical Violence, Chuck's AU, Dean Loves Cas, M/M, MOC!Cas, Overprotective Dean, Sad, Touch-Starved Cas, crazy cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24118858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvarieNiceDay/pseuds/AvarieNiceDay
Summary: “Dean?” Cas squinted up at him from the trunk as Dean opened it. He was balled up awkwardly in order to fit in the cramped space, looking small and vulnerable and Dean rolled his shoulder to tug at the dental floss stitches in his skin to distract from the tightness in his throat. He reached down wordlessly and wrapped a hand around his bicep, pulling him from the car and onto his feet.The sky had cleared up a bit since he’d parked, and the moon sat fat and round above them, illuminating the fear in Cas’ eyes when they fell upon the empty grave, Ma’lak box sitting open and empty beside it.“No,” he whispered, tugging his wrists against the angel cuffs around them so hard they would have bitten into his skin if he were human. “Dean, no.”Dean put a forceful hand between his shoulder blades and pushed him forward. Cas tripped over his feet, nearly face-planting into the wet, rotted leaves.Dean blinked back the urge to pull him into his chest, tuck him under his chin and lead him back to the car.(Coda to 15x9)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 13
Kudos: 94





	Keep You Here

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for this, really. I usually never write sad things but this idea came to me and I had to write it.

“Sam, smash it!”

Sam held the cloudy glass orb in his palm. His face drawn as he warred between hope and despair.

_It will be better._

He repeated the mantra in his head, drawing strength from the words and feeding his optimism.

“I _will_ make it better.” He whispered, resolved. The ball rolled from his open palm, shattering around his feet. Broken glass skittered across the floor like jagged teeth, biting into the carpet and releasing a cloud of red-grey mist that hissed lazily into the air.

Chuck watched it happen, eyes blowing wide as the realization of what Sam had done barreled over him.

“You idiot!” He roared, making an aborted motion with his hand- something meant to magic them hurt, but nothing happened.

And then he froze, face strained as he struggled to move against invisible binding. The mist rose around him, compressing his vessel like a pneumatic tube and for a moment the world froze with him. Everything slowed and all the sound was sucked from the atmosphere before snapping back in a sudden burst and Chuck was burning from the ground up. His body cracked and flaked, glowing red like magma then fading out to ash, floating into the air around them.

Cas let out a shout of pain from across the room, still holding loosely to Eileen’s arm from when he had tackled her to the ground. He scrambled to shuck off his outer coats and shoved his shirt sleeve up over his forearm. There, illuminating under his skin, was a mirror image of the Mark of Cain, like light under the surface of a pool, until it solidified- branded there like fire and burning just as hotly.

A sourceless gust of wind blew across them, gathering up the scattered pieces of God drifting aimlessly in the air and pouring them into the Mark. Cas let out a final shout of pain as the last of it was sealed away, and the mark glowed a hot red once more before the light ebbed away, leaving the skin puffy and swollen like a fresh burn.

Cas was on his knees, chest heaving as he struggled for air, sweat dripping from his chin. He tucked his head into his chest as he sat back on his feet, staring blankly at the Mark.

“Cas?” Dean called from across the room as the air cleared out and he could make out his figure on the floor. He scrambled to his feet, closed the distance between them and knelt down by his side, reaching a clammy hand out for his forearm.

Cas flinched away and Dean withdrew quickly, dejectedly. Sam shuffled towards them, keeping one eye on Cas as he helped Eileen to her feet.

“You okay?” Sam checked with her first, waiting for her nod of affirmation before turning to Cas. “And you?”

Sam startled when Cas’ gaze snapped to him with a shuddering intensity. His blue eyes were unnaturally, incandescently bright; similar to when they filled with grace, but more vicious. It was gone in the space of one blink, but left Sam reeling.

“Yeah,” Cas huffed, looking down at his arm again and rubbing the Mark absently as he pushed off the ground. “I’m fine.”

“Alright,” Dean’s voice wavered with an indecipherable emotion as he scrubbed a shaking hand over his face. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

* * *

The more distance Dean put between them and the Lucky Elephant Casino, the easier he could breathe. It was well into the night when they crossed the Oklahoma border, riding a well-worn stretch of interstate Dean was all-too familiar with. Sam and Eileen were passed out on top of each other in the backseat of the Impala, her head cradled softly in the nook of Sam’s neck. Cas was silent and still in the passenger seat, his hands folded stiffly in his lap. Aside from the occasional, absent-minded press of his fingers to his forearm he had hardly moved the entire drive.

“Hey,” Dean ventured when the silence dragged on so long he was beginning to feel it itching down his neck. His voice barely lilted above the hum of the engine, but Cas heard him. He ticked his head towards him to show he was listening, but didn’t look at him.

Dean cleared his throat. Rubbed his sweaty palms against the rough denim of his jeans. “You, uh- how are you feeling?”

Cas made a disgruntled sound deep in his throat. “On edge.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, eyes flickering between lamplit freeway and the sharp edge of Cas’ jaw. “I felt that way a lot. When I, uh, when I had the Mark.”

A muscle jumped in Cas’ throat as he clenched his jaw. “This is different.”

Dean felt his hand tighten around the steering wheel. His heart jumped to his throat as the gravity of what they had really done sunk into him. They had doomed Cas; they both knew that, going in. There were no illusions. But Dean had failed to grasp the full scope- he was so sick with worry over his brother, over making things right with Cas and getting out of purgatory safe. So relieved that they had managed to get what they needed, would be able to save the day and get rid of Chuck once and for all. But this was the cost; Cas and his sanity- the goodness that defines him.

“How do you mean?”

Cas turned to look at him, and in the shadow between headlights his eyes glowed dangerously. Dean shivered.

“I think the effects of this mark are moving through me much faster than Cain’s did for you.”

Dean swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly sticky and dry. “You feelin all… murdery?” He cringed at his choice of words.

“Not murdery. Just… restless.”

“Restless? You’ve barely moved since we got in the car, man.”

“I’m fighting it,” Cas clenched his hands in his lap and Dean finally took notice of the tense line of his shoulder, “But it’s hard.”

“Why would it be affecting you so much quicker?”

“I don’t know,” Cas replied quietly, “Maybe my grace is acting as a catalyst. It could be burning through the extra energy in my body like gasoline.”

“Cas.” Dean croaked, his voice cracking pathetically as he reached across the space between them, wanting to touch any part of his friend. But Cas flinched violently at the motion, recoiling against the car door.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No,” Cas spoke through clenched teeth, turning to meet his eyes. There was something bright and intense behind them again. He took a deep breath, and the light blinked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“I get it.” Dean cut him off quickly. They settled back into heavy silence. Dean kept his eyes on the road.

* * *

They returned to the bunker and life went on. Surprisingly normally given everything that had happened. Things were quiet; no signs of impending doom or cataclysmic disasters. In fact, there weren’t many signs of anything supernatural. No news of strange deaths or demon omens, no bodies found missing blood or torn apart. Sam and Eileen had been keeping an eye on the news radar, but nothing was piquing their interest.

It had been a little over a week when Jody called.

“It was just supposed to be a small nest… Two, maybe three vampires.”

The room was full of stagnant air, still and void of life as they listened to her voice, quiet and shaking with grief.

“She’s gone. Claire’s gone.”

* * *

Things escalated quickly after that. As if hoards of monsters had simply spawned from nowhere overnight; and they were no longer subtly skulking in the shadows of society. A group of ghouls in Nebraska had eaten their way through the better part of Ralston before Bobby and a few others were able to put them down. Vampire nests were thick throughout the midwest, nestled in abandoned barns and picking off people in droves.

There was no doubt the carnage was becoming hard to contain, control over the situation slipping through their hands like sand in an hourglass; counting down the time they had until they eventually overtook them. And the steadily simmering rage and turmoil that the Mark was wreaking on Cas was just as out of hand.

“Cas… _Cas_!”

The angel was breathing heavily through his nose, one hand clasping the collar of what used to be the neck of a werewolf. Currently, it was nothing but a bloody mass; bone and tissue mottled, thick clumps of blood dripping sickeningly off Cas’ knuckles and onto the cracked concrete floor.

“What?!” He snarled, tossing the body across the room and turning to Dean with a glare, his face a mask of unrecognizable rage.

Dean was unusually cowed by the fury in his voice and he took a step back, face going soft and scared.

“Cas?” The susurration was barely audible but Cas bared his teeth at him in a snarl, tracking his movements keenly.

“Stay back.” He warned, closing his eyes and turning away. He took a deep breath as he tried to douse the vicious fire licking through his veins. The desire to rip and kill was a rhythm that attuned itself to the beating of his heart, pumping through his body.

“It’s okay.” Dean hesitated but shuffled closer, almost within reach. Sam and Eileen watched them carefully from the edge of the room, three slain vampires still twitching weakly at their feet.

“No.” Cas pushed the word out of him like it was painful; his jaw clenched so tight his teeth could crack. He drew in on himself, trying to distance them.

“Cas,” Dean reached out, fingertips brushing the blood-stained sleeve of his coat as he pleaded with him. “Come on, man. Come back to me.”

Cas took another shuddering inhale, his entire body rising and falling with it. There was a long, tremulous pause before he slowly opened his eyes. The intensity was still there, that fire flash of bright blue light, but it was fading. He dropped his arms to his sides, stared blankly down at his fingers dripping sticky blood in a steady _plop, plop, plop_.

Dean fell forward the final inch it took to touch him, fingers clutching desperately to the collar of his coat and dragging him in. Cas let his body, fatigued and battle-worn, be pulled to Dean’s chest and pressed his face into his neck. He could feel his eyes stinging with angry tears.

“I can’t, Dean.” He panted out, the words still pushing heavy out of him, as if the effort it took to speak and anchor control of himself in tandem was overwhelming.

“Yes you can.” It sounded like an order coming from Dean, his face set into a hard line as he gripped the back of Cas’ head determinedly and pressed him closer. Like if he could hold him tight enough he’d keep him together.

“I can’t- I can’t fight it forever. Not for much longer.” Cas nearly sobbed against him, feeling the fragility of his vessel as he fought to contain the bloodlust rushing through his veins.

* * *

Dean drove them back to the bunker that night, after they’d gathered up the dozen or so headless vamps and burned their corpses. The smell of burnt flesh clung to their clothes, saturating the stale air of the Impala. Dean tapped out a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel as he watched Cas, not even pretending to focus on the road. Cas was fidgeting incessantly, the adrenaline from the vamp fight clinging like static electricity over his skin. His fingers itched with the memory of torn flesh as he dug them into the rough material of his slacks, tugged them through his permanently wild hair, restlessly shucked his coat to the floor and pried his tie away from his neck. They shook as he fiddled with the sleeve of his button up, brushing over the raised skin on his right forearm.

“I feel hot.” He complained, grimacing at the car’s heat set to full blast in an attempt to ward against the frigid midwestern winter.

Dean silently turned the heat down.

“And itchy,” he continued, voice sharp with agitiation, “Like I’m about to crawl out of my fucking skin.”

Dean flinched at the curse falling from his lips so easily.

“You know what used to help me?” He offered, voice rough with exhaustion and worry.

Cas didn’t reply, his attention focused out the window- but lifted his shoulders in what could be construed as a shrug.

“This is gonna sound girly as hell,” Dean started, chuckling self-consciously as he spared a glance in his rearview mirror, catching sight of Sam and Eileen trailing behind them. The headlights of Eileen’s coupe bounced over the bumpy road. “But, uh- thinking about you and Sam. About people who care about me. It kept me grounded- or, whatever.”

Cas turned to face him with an unreadable expression.

Dean could feel heat creeping up under his chin- he knew how it sounded. Like the power of love or some shit was able to keep him halfway sane until- well, until it wasn’t. Dean sighed and fiddled with the radio dial, looking for something softer than the usual classic rock. Cas had called it jarring and Dean wasn’t looking to poke the metaphorical bear.

He startled when Cas wrapped his long fingers around his wrist, catching his blue eyes and messy hair and he felt his heart clench at the pain welling up on his face.

“Dean,” He whispered, voice low and desperate as if he was afraid this moment of clarity would disappear soon as it had come, “You know what you’re going to have to do. For me. Soon.”

Dean wrenched his hand from his grip and shook his head just once, abrupt and absolute. “No.”

“Dean,” Cas was pleading, eyes turned to liquid pools of cobalt as he reached for him again. He caught the sleeve of his jacket, holding it like a life-line. “You have to. I can feel my mind slipping, Dean. It’s getting harder and harder to control myself. I- earlier today, all I could think about was how good Sam’s neck would feel breaking under my fingers,” his hand twitched at the words and he closed his eyes to collect himself, “You can’t let me lose myself. I won’t hurt you- I- I won’t hurt Sam,” he stuttered, face crumbling into anguish as he scrambled across the bench seat, both legs up under him and only a foot between them, “You have to promise me, Dean. Don’t allow me to hurt anyone- you _have_ to take care of me before I get that far.”

“I’m not-” Dean choked on his words like acid, “You can’t ask me to do that, Cas. Please, I- I won’t be able to. You know I won’t.”

“You will,” Cas settled his feet back on the floor but kept the closeness between them. A peculiar calm settled over him as he loosened his grip on Dean’s jacket, letting his hand slide up to twine with Dean’s. “I trust you, Dean. You’ll do the right thing.”

He nestled down next to Dean, finally still for the moment as he held their hands on his knee.

* * *

It became an unspoken rule after that night in the car- whenever Cas was feeling particularly agitated (which was becoming more frequent as the days passed) he would seek out Dean, who would come up with some excuse for the two of them to spend time together- going for a drive in baby or watching a movie or researching together in the library. Anything that involved them sitting close enough to be touching. The contact seemed to help Cas, much to his surprise. After he first took on the Mark he felt as if someone touching him could so easily cause him to snap but with Dean it was different. As it was with most things.

But as much as Cas would prefer to be able to just reach out and hold Dean’s hand whenever the urge struck him, to calm the storm in his mind and remind him of who he was, he understood his friend’s limitations. He was just grateful Dean was comfortable with their proximity, letting their sides press close together when they sat on the couch or letting Cas crawl over the passenger seat in the Impala and curl up in the middle. It was enough, really. More than he ever would have dreamed to hope for.

Sam and Eileen, ever the conscientious duo, had taken to ignoring the ever dwindling personal space between the two of them, aside from a raised eyebrow the first time Sam had walked in on them sitting on the couch, sides pressed so close together Cas may as well have been perched in his lap. But Dean had just shrugged, the tips of his ears turning faintly pink, and Sam had left them without a word.

“Jody says there’s been another wendigo sighting up her way.” Sam announced one morning over the glow of his laptop.

“Isn’t Bobby up that way already?” Dean replied, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes while he waited for his coffee to brew.

Eileen shook her head. “Bobby is in Arkansas. Shifters.”

“We can spare the time to help her.” Cas stated, hovering in the kitchen doorway as if he wasn’t quite sure he belonged inside.

“Can we?” Dean dropped his hands from his face and gave Cas a wary look. “In the past week I’ve barely slept and we’ve been home a grand total of twenty hours. I’m friggin’ tired, man.”

“If we don’t help each other out then the monsters will win, Dean.”

“Don’t get all holier-than-thou on me,” Dean scoffed in irritation, “You just want an excuse to kill something.”

Cas snarled, hands balling into tight fists at his sides. “Would you prefer I stay cooped up in here and take to killing something besides monsters?” He had meant it to come out sarcastic, but there was a serious edge to his words that turned Dean’s blood cold.

“The more you feed that desire, the harder it’ll be to stop!” Dean slammed a hand on the table, the harsh sound reverberating ominously around the room.

“ _I can’t stop_. That’s the point!” Cas bellowed, taking a wide step into the room that cast his face into shadow. “It’s never going to stop, Dean. It’s just going to get worse and worse until I can’t control it anymore. There’s no reversing this- so what’s the point in simply attempting to postpone the inevitable?”

“Cas,” Sam stood suddenly from his chair, turning to his friend with a soft, somber expression. “There has to be something we can do. Some way to lessen the effects of the mark- or at least slow it down?”

“If there was, I assure you I would have found it when Dean was afflicted.”

Dean felt those words deep in his chest, floating around like sticker-burrs and needling him for a reason he couldn’t quite parse.

“We can always keep looking.” Eileen supplied, looking between the three of them with honest concern.

“Of course we will,” Sam agreed, shooting his brother a glare. “In the meantime, maybe you could try not to antagonize him any more, Dean? This is hard enough on everyone without you two going at each other’s throats.”

“Antagonize?” Dean spat, shaking his head in indignation. “I’m just trying to get him to relax! To take a break and stay away from all the murder and carnage that’s going on out there right now.”

“It’s not about your intentions, Dean- I know you mean well. It’s the way you’re approaching it. You can’t expect to get a positive reaction out of him when you address him head on with aggression. You of all people should know how someone in his position would respond to that.”

Dean sighed, slumping back in his seat and pressing his fingers so hard into his eyes he saw colors. “Yeah,” he looked up at Cas who was now standing rather awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Sorry, man.”

“It’s fine, Dean.” Cas replied briskly, obviously agitated but that was his default lately. Like he was one wrong look away from slitting someone’s throat.

Dean stood from his seat and crossed the room, looking up at Cas when he reached him. “Come on.” He motioned for him to follow him down the hall and Cas did so, silently.

“I am sorry.” Dean continued as they navigated the narrow bunker halls. “I don’t mean to get so upset…” he let out a long breath and cast an anxious, sidelong glance at his friend, “I’m just worried.”

Cas nodded stiffly as he trailed behind. “What about the wendigo?”

Dean sighed and hesitated as they reached his bedroom door. Cas glanced curiously at it, but focused back on Dean as he replied.

“Someone else can take care of it, Cas.” He crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture of finality. “Please just try to relax for one friggin’ day. It might be good for you.”

Cas opened his mouth, no doubt about to argue his position, but Dean ignored him in favor of pushing his bedroom door open and ushering him inside.

“What are we doing in your room?”

Dean shrugged as he shuffled across the floor, his feet dragging heavy with the weight of the fading world. They all needed a break and if he couldn’t force Sam and Eileen to slow down, then he would damn well make Cas. The guy was holding on by a meager thread as it was and to watch him fall over the edge now would ruin him.

He grabbed his laptop from the desk in the corner and set it on his bed. “I thought we could watch a movie.”

Cas glanced surreptitiously around the small room. “In here?”

“Yeah,” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “Honestly, that couch has been killing my back, and I can’t remember the last time I really got to enjoy my bed.” He looked longingly at his beloved memory foam mattress.

“Alright.” Cas complied, crossing the room to stand on the left side of the bed as he waited for Dean.

“Cool, here- let me, just-,” Dean lifted the laptop with one hand and pulled back the thin sheets with the other, gesturing for Cas to sit beside him as he positioned two pillows behind their backs and wriggled his feet under the comforter. “There.” He turned to him with a goofy smile Cas couldn’t help but return just a fraction of.

Dean sunk further into his pillows, letting his body drift that much closer to Cas until they were pressed up next to each other in a position they had become familiar with. He opened his laptop and balanced it on his knees in front of them.

“What are you in the mood for?” He asked as it booted up, the bright light jarring in the dimly lit room.

“You usually know better than I do.” Cas replied, staring at the screen with focused consternation as he shifted restlessly.

“Hey,” Dean started softly, turning to look at him. “You okay?”

Usually when they were like this, just the two of them, relaxing against each other, Cas was able to find a bit of calm. Now he seemed more anxious than ever, jaw clenched tight and face drawn as if he was in pain.

“No, I-” he inhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair in a disturbingly human gesture. “I’ve been feeling particularly bad today.” He finally admitted, averting his gaze. “That’s why I wanted to go with Sam and Eileen. It’s just-” Cas nearly whimpered as he tugged off his coat in a fluid motion and began scratching at the skin over the Mark with blunt fingernails, “It’s like it’s all just _right here_ under my skin.”

“Whoa,” Dean leaned over him to grab his wrist lightly, stopping his hand as his skin began to turn pink from scratching. “Just relax, Cas. Come on- it’s just us. We’re safe right now, I promise.”

Cas closed his eyes, took a steadying breath. Dean could feel the tension in his muscles where they were pressed together, everything wound tight as a coil. He lifted his right arm and laid it across Cas’ shoulders, tugging him closer as he whispered soothingly to him.

“You’re okay. You’re gonna be fine.”

It took several minutes, but Dean finally felt Cas’ muscles loosening, body becoming more slack as he slumped heavily against his side.

“See?” Dean turned his head and his nose was practically buried in Cas’ dark hair. “Everything’s good, man.” He gave Cas’ shoulder a final squeeze and began to reluctantly draw back into his own space. Cas protested by burrowing his face into Dean’s neck, his large hands fisting the soft material of his worn t-shirt.

Dean let out a startled chuckle. “Alright.” He drew his arm tighter around Cas, nearly pulling him into his lap as he continued to breathe shallowly into the hollow of Dean’s neck, raising goosebumps along the skin there. Dean squirmed a bit at the sensation but pushed any untoward thoughts far aside. Cas was in deep emotional distress and although Dean may have hoped that maybe one day… this was most obviously not the time. Probably never really would be from now until- until the end.

Cas eventually let out a long, slow breath and drew back just enough to meet Dean’s eyeline, a little sheepishly. “I’m sorry.” He choked out, embarrassed at his compulsory need for physical touch.

“It’s alright,” Dean replied quickly, rubbing Cas’ shoulder. “Does this… help?”

Cas nodded and looked away, chewing nervously at his lip. “It’s quieter when you touch me. I don’t know why.”

“If it helps, then it’s fine.” Dean replied simply, in that way that he does that could make the most absurd things sound normal. He adjusted their position just enough so that he could rebalance his laptop where they could both easily see it. “You still wanna watch a movie?”

Cas was quiet as he assessed Dean’s reaction, trying to ascertain if it was really okay or if he was doing his usual self-sacrificing schtick. In the end, he decided he didn’t actually care. As selfish as it may be, he was willing to take what was being willingly given to him without question. So he nodded and laid his head carefully on Dean’s shoulder, relaxing into his hold again.

* * *

“We’re not going.” Dean’s stern voice rang through the empty halls of the bunker as he glared down Sam and Cas.

“I don’t see why you get to make decisions for Cas all of a sudden.” Sam retorted, lips pursed into a thin line of irritation as he regarded his brother’s defensive stance, body half blocking Cas as the angel tried to peer around him.

“I’m not making decisions for him, we talked about him taking a step back from going out on hunts for a bit. Right, Cas?” Dean turned sharply to him, expecting his answer.

“That was three weeks ago, Dean. I think I’ve had enough of a ‘break’.” Cas replied, awkward finger quotes framing the word.

“But you’ve been doing so much better being here instead of out hunting all the time. Don’t you think this is the best place for you to be?”

Cas glanced between the brothers, brow drawn in concentration. “I have been feeling better lately, Dean. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I could be out helping. After what happened with Donna and Alex…”

“That wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Dean snapped, pinning him with a glare. “Nobody knew they were going out on their own. If we did we would have met them.”

“And this time we do know!” Cas exclaimed, his hands nearly meeting the hard wall as he gesticulated rather manically. “Jody is about to throw herself blind into a pack of werewolves, and you expect me to just sit here doing nothing?”

“Yes.”

Fire blazed behind Cas’ eyes as he gave Dean a light shove- just hard enough to throw him back against the wall without hurting.

“You are not my handler, Dean. You don’t control me.” He growled, and for the first time in weeks that itchy, uncomfortable feeling was skittering across his skin like the thin pointed legs of an insect.

“It’s not about that, Cas!” Dean shouted back, pushing himself off the wall until he was crowding into Cas’ personal space, face hard and angled down at him. “You can’t go off and get all maniacal again- we don’t know when this,” he grabbed roughly at Cas’ forearm, pushing the sleeve of his suit jacket up to reveal the raised, red Mark branded there, “is gonna go catatonic. You’ve come damn close enough already and being here, away from all of that shit- it’s just better for you, man.”

“But if I can help-”

“You’d be helping me more if you stayed, Cas.” Dean cut him off quietly, eyes wide and pleading as he stared down at him. “Please. Just stay.”

Cas deflated, pulling his arm from Dean’s grip and backing away slightly. “Fine.”

“Have we got that all worked out, then?” Sam piped up from the end of the hall where they had forgotten him, one eyebrow popped up inquisitively.

“Yeah, Sammy. We’re peachy.” Dean replied, flashing him a toothy, insincere grin as he pushed his way past him towards the kitchen.

“Eileen and I are leaving in an hour.” Sam informed Cas, who was standing next to the wall- looking small and defeated. “Cas-,” he started, stopped to check his brother had disappeared from earshot, “Dean doesn’t- he’s just worried, okay? I know he’s terrible at distinguishing between being an asshole and being caring but trust me, this is him caring too much.”

Cas didn’t reply, just grit his teeth and kept his mouth closed.

* * *

“Who was that?”

“What?” Dean turned to find Cas standing at the threshold of his bedroom.

“On the phone. Was that Sam?” Cas strode into the room, perching on the edge of Dean’s bed as he shifted his feet up to make room for him.

“Yeah.” Dean blinked at the black screen of his phone, still sitting in the loose grip of his hand. “I think we need to go get him.”

“What happened?” Cas demanded, alarm bells triggered by the flat, expressionless tone of Dean’s voice.

“Eileen.” He answered slowly, words quiet and distant as if he hadn’t really meant to speak them, but they fell from him anyway.

“What happened?” Cas repeated sharply.

“They were ambushed on their way to take care of the pack. Rugaru. It got them from behind. Tore into her before anyone even knew what happened.”

There was a beat of heavy silence, thick and viscous as it unfurled.

“Eileen is…”

“Dead, Cas. She’s gone.” His voice was disconnected from his body, words floating out without any real meaning. Numb, incomprehensible.

Cas stood from the bed, towering over Dean as he glowered at him. His eyes gleamed with ire- that dazzle of white-hot blue, dark and dangerous and fed by the Mark, streaking through them. “This is your fault. If you would have let me go with them- I could have saved her!”

“Cas, I-” Dean reached out for him but Cas retreated before he had the chance, leaving him cold and guilty in the middle of his bed.

* * *

“Where’s Cas?” Sam hadn’t said a word since Dean had picked him up a little north of mile marker 55 in the backwoods of South Dakota. They were now passing through Broken Bow, Nebraska and the unbidden question nearly made Dean jump.

“He- uh, stayed back at the bunker.”

“Right.”

“Look, Sam-”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Dean.” Sam cut him off, eyes staring unseeing out the window. “Ever.”

* * *

“What do you mean he’s gone?” Sam was sitting in the middle of his bed next to his still packed duffle bag when Dean had barged in, eyes wild and stammering incoherently.

“Cas!” He shouted, running a shaky hand through his short hair. “He’s gone, Sam. Fuck! Before I left to pick you up he- he was upset. He said it was all my fault, wha- what happened with… he was so pissed, Sam. That I made him stay behind- he thought that if he had been there… and now he’s fucking gone!”

“Okay, calm down.” Sam stoody stiffly, the aches in his joints echoing the hollow pain in his chest with the effort it took to move. “We’ll find him, don’t worry. He can’t have gotten that far, and we put a tracker in his car- remember?”

“Right.” Dean nodded, taking a deep breath as he leaned back against the door frame. He was too fucking exhausted for this. “Right- we’ll just track him. He can’t have made it more than a few hundred miles in any direction. We’ll catch up to him- he drives like an old lady.” He fumbled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the tracking app.

“Where is he?” Sam shuffled closer to him, trying to see his phone screen.

“He’s only thirty miles west?” Dean stared at the little red blip on his map that indicated Cas’ car, parked in what looked to be a gas station parking lot just a few towns over.

“See- it’s fine. Maybe he wasn’t even trying to leave. Maybe he just needed to get out, cool off for a bit.”

“Yeah.” Dean agreed, though a slow growing nausea was beginning to roil in his stomach. “Yeah, maybe.”

* * *

“His car isn’t here.” They had driven around the entirety of the two-pump gas station three times and there was no sign of Cas, despite the fact that the marker on his tracking app hadn’t budged an inch. “Dammit- he’s not here, Sam!”

Dean slammed on the brakes in irritation, nearly throwing his brother through the windshield.

“Jesus- calm down, Dean!” Sam snapped, dragging a hand over his face in exhaustion. “Let’s get out and see if we can find the tracker. He must have figured that we’d trail him and ditched it here.”

“Shit. Shit. _Shit_.” Dean eased the Impala into a parking space, gripping the steering wheel tight as he cursed to himself. “This isn’t fucking good, Sam. Who knows where the hell he is or what the fuck he’s doing. He could have flipped and murdered half the country by now!”

“I think we’d have heard about some mass murderer in a trench coat by now if that was the case.” Sam replied, rolling his eyes as he stepped out of the car. “Come on, maybe he stopped inside- we can talk to the cashier.”

* * *

“Dean?” Sam grabbed his brother’s shoulder, shaking him roughly in an attempt to wake him. “Dean!”

“Mmphf.” Dean rolled away from him, shoving his face into the dirty motel pillow.

“Dean we gotta hit the road. Manager says our six hours were up twenty minutes ago.”

Dean rolled onto his back, prying his sleep-crusted eyes open and wincing at the fluorescent ceiling light.

“Alright.” He smacked his dry lips, mouth feeling like a container of cotton balls as he sat up slowly and kicked his feet over the side of the bed.

“You look fantastic.” Sam deadpanned, stuffing a few random articles of clothing into Dean’s duffel for him and attempting to pick up at least a few of the empty beer cans littered around his bed.

“Yeah, fuck you.” Dean grumbled, voice grating against his raw throat like gravel. He grabbed the quarter full bottle of skaggy beer on the night stand and chugged it down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Nice, Dean.” Sam sighed, shoving his bag into his arms. “I’ll meet you at the car.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at the greasy texture of it. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a proper shower in a bathroom without rust-tinged water. The only time he even attempted was when Sam would scrunch his nose in distaste as he passed by and demand he at least change his clothes.

“There’s a case nearby.” Sam informed him as he slid into the driver’s seat of the Impala. “Just sixty miles north of here- seems like a vengeful spirit, maybe.”

“You sure it’s a case? We should really be focusing on finding Cas.”

“Mm, pretty sure. Six dead so far and the only connection between them was that they were, well- assholes. One guy had three domestic assault charges, another was a sex offender, another one a drunk notorious for driving after having a few too many…” Sam looked up from his iPad where he had been scrolling through the case files. He dropped his voice to something aiming towards soothing. “We don’t have anything on Cas right now, Dean. We might as well keep busy while we wait for more.”

“Alright- vengeful spirit that’s got a thing for assholes. We can do that.” Dean replied, throwing the car into reverse and dutifully ignoring the pained look on his brother’s face.

* * *

“Honestly, it’s about time the feds showed up to look into this mess.” The Leadville, Colorado town Sheriff- a short, excitable man with an impressive moustache- proclaimed as he led Sam and Dean down a narrow hallway to the coroner’s quarters.

“Well, sometimes these things can take a while to come on our radar,” Sam replied vaguely. “You know, uh, bureaucracy and all that.”

“I feel ya.” The man nodded earnestly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I thought with the… nature of the bodies, you would have shown up sooner, though.”

“The, uh, nature of the bodies?” Sam repeated, intrigued.

“Did you not read the report? I mean, I guess it would be kind of hard to believe unless you’ve seen it with your own two eyes.”

The Sheriff pushed through a set of clinical double doors leading to a sterile, white room where six bodies were waiting, laid out on metal tables. Or what was left of their bodies, anyway.

“They were mangled.” Dean commented as he stood over the closest victim, staring down at it’s mutilated torso.

“Does the coroner have any idea what might have caused this kind of damage?” Sam questioned as he moved around the room, glancing briefly at each. They were all nearly identical; faces, chests, and stomachs slashed open, organs either hacked apart or missing entirely, creating a bloody mass of skin and tissue.

“She’s not entirely sure…” The Sheriff came up beside Dean, who was still staring down at the first body. “She guessed some kind of knife or small sword, but the sheer amount of damage is honestly astounding. It would have taken a long time for the bodies to reach this state of mutilation. I mean, they look like they were put through a meat grinder. Whoever this guy is, he has some serious rage issues.”

Dean swallowed down the acidic bile climbing up his throat as the urge to vomit rushed over him.

“If you don’t mind, I think we can take it from here.” Sam looked to the Sheriff, giving him a kind but dismissive smile.

“Yeah I’ll, uh, leave you two to it.” And he retreated from the room, leaving the brothers alone with the unsettling corpses.

“Holy shit.” Dean gripped the edge of the metal table, his knees suddenly weak and his vision swimming. “ _Holy shit_ , it’s Cas. It has to be.”

“Calm down, Dean. We don’t know that for sure- it could be any number of things.”

“Like what? They were slashed to fucking pieces by an angel blade, Sam. Look at them!” He gestured deftly to a wound on the side of the body that was large and triangular in shape.

“It could be…” Sam squinted worriedly at the gash. “It could actually be a serial killer? Just a strange coincidence…”

“You know it’s him. He’s here, somewhere. We have to find him!” Dean’s voice echoed angry and scared around the room and Sam flinched.

“If this is him…” Sam glanced down at the body again, biting the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know if we want to.”

“I _have_ to,” Dean pushed away from the table, unable to look at the decimated corpse anymore. “I promised… I promised I’d take care of him. If it got to this- I told him I wouldn’t let him hurt anyone, Sam!”

“This isn’t your fault,” Sam consoled, heart aching for his brother at the desperation in his voice. “You were doing everything you could to protect him- to prevent _this_.” Sam winced as he looked over the body again. He came up next to Dean and placed a warm, consoling hand on his shoulder. “What happened with Ei- with Eileen was just a freak occurrence. Cas being there wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Yeah, tell that to him. He made it pretty clear that the blame was on me for that one.”

“He was just upset, Dean. The Mark was making him restless and he was looking for any reason to leave- you know that.”

“He was getting better! We were… we were making it work.”

Sam shook his head. “He wasn’t getting better, Dean. It was just slowing the inevitable. Hanging around the bunker with you, watching movies and holding hands wasn’t going to _fix_ him. The only reason that helped at all in the first place was… well, I don’t think I have to spell that one out for you.”

Dean closed his mouth around a sob, turning away from his brother. “I have to find him, Sam. I have to make this right.”

* * *

It had been weeks since they hit a dead end in Leadville and picked up a trail just east at the Garden of the Gods (no, the irony was not lost on them). They followed the trail of increasingly disturbing bodies through the southern tip of Nebraska and the better part of northern Kansas before realizing they were slowly creeping up on the Ozarks. And everywhere they followed, Cas was just a few, infuriating steps ahead. Back in the day, Cas had been a strategist in heaven- he was cunning and clever and he knew how to cover his tracks, how to stay just below the radar and, most importantly, how to hide from the Winchesters.

“He’s not using any of the aliases we set up for him.” Dean slammed his laptop shut. “He’s not using any of the cards Charlie gave him- he’s even ditched his fucking car!”

“He knows how we look for each other,” Sam was sitting cross-legged in the middle of his motel bed, scrolling through security camera footage from the museum where the latest body had been found, “He’s watched us track each other down more times than I can count. He knows us better than pretty much anyone. Of course he knows how to evade us.”

“He’s gotta slip up eventually.” Dean grabbed his beer bottle off the table, tipping back precariously in his chair as he down half of it in one gulp.

Sam glanced up at him over his laptop, brows drawn in concern. Dean’s drinking had picked up considerably since Cas had taken off, more than Sam had seen in recent memory. Every night he ended up passed out- usually on the floor, but he sometimes made it to a bed when he was lucky. Sam wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep it up; if they didn’t find Cas soon, he was afraid of what might happen to him. To both of them, really. Sam was hurting too; this was the longest they had gone without returning to the bunker since they had made a home there. He longed to shut himself up in his room and have the time he needed to really grieve Eileen- the time he wasn’t granted because all of their time and energy had immediately been thrown into finding Cas. It was beginning to wear on him almost as much as Dean.

“Shit.” Sam breathed out as he focused back on his computer screen. He scrambled to hit the pause button and rewound the feed.

Dean was by his side before he could blink, peering over his shoulder at the grainy security footage and feeling his stomach churn as he watched Cas walk into view. He strode purposefully down the view of the hallway, angel blade glinting where it caught the camera’s glare. He swiftly caught up to a man at the far end- a man who they had come to know as Joe the Janitor earlier that day at the morgue. Joe startled as he must have heard Cas behind him, turning with alarm. Cas didn’t hesitate for a second, plunging his long blade deep into his gut and reaching out with his other hand to brace the man as he fell forward with the shock of it. Cas paused for a moment, staring straight into his frightened eyes, before shoving him off and watching the sharp edge slide out slick like it was cutting through soft butter.

Dean felt sick- unable to watch anymore, he turned away. Sam closed his computer softly, letting out a shaky breath. It was the first time they had actually seen Cas and any hope they were holding onto that it wasn’t really him was now completely dashed.

“Where the fuck is he?!” Dean shouted in an uncontrollable burst of anger and panic, chucking the bottle he was holding loosely in his hand at the wall. Sam flinched as the broken glass tumbled to the floor.

“He’s close, Dean. We’ll find him.”

* * *

Another day and a half and they were deep within the Ozarks, the winding rows of thick forest and nearly a hundred miles of water-kissed shoreline surrounding them. It should have felt free, the way that being out in nature often did. Instead the trees felt like prison bars and the echoes of laughter from people sunning on their docks and pontoons was haunting, not comforting in the slightest.

As it became apparent that Cas was moving towards this secluded region of the country, Dean and Sam had taken precautions. They had old connections in the area- it was a hotbed for wendigos, and their dad had run into more than one hunter there back in the day. The hunters in the Ozarks had pretty much full control over the cabin rental industry there in order to keep tabs on who was coming and going and which areas they were staying in to minimize their potential contact with the creatures. They had called everyone they knew and made sure they routed any renters through them, which was how they had finally managed to track Cas to a small cabin in the depths of the country, plopped in the middle of a rocky and rough terrain. The place hadn’t been rented out in nearly three years and was advertised as an ‘immersive experience in the wild’. There was no cable, no running water, and no way to access it by car. The last mile and a half had to be hiked while following nothing but a hand-drawn map that the owner had sketched out nearly twenty years ago.

“I can’t believe it’s only been three years since someone actually thought it would be a good idea to stay out here.” Dean complained as they picked their way through fallen trees and foliage.

“Well, Jeff did say that the last renter didn’t make it through the three days he’d planned on. Said something about how it wasn’t as ‘Walden-esque’ as he’d imagined.”

Dean snorted. “No shit.”

They’d ditched the car more than a mile back, Dean making sure to cover her in the brush enough that anyone who happened to be this far into the woods wouldn’t notice her. They were both sweating in the heat with the exertion of the hike, despite the fact that the trees were so thick they blocked out the sun. It was completely off road and there was no worn trail or markings of any kind that signified they were even going in the right direction.

It felt like hours when Sam suddenly stopped before Dean, throwing an arm out that connected with his chest with a dull thump, stopping him in his tracks. Dean looked up and he nodded across the clearing ahead of them.  
The cabin was there, sitting auspiciously in the middle of the clearing and illuminated by the midday sun. It was only big enough to be one room at best, with a small chimney affixed to the roof that was currently billowing smoke out into the bright blue sky.

“Gotcha.” Dean breathed.

They moved quietly but quickly across the clearing, squinting their eyes in the bright sun as they adjusted from the subdued light under the cover of the trees. Sam nudged Dean with his shoulder, nodding towards a small window on the right side of the building, looking over the portion of the clearing they were moving across and they receded a bit, making sure to stay out of eyesight. When they reached the front door, Dean motioned for Sam to stand back as he reared his leg up, ready to kick it in.

“Dean?” The door swung open suddenly and Cas was standing in the entryway, looking bewildered and far too normal in nothing but his white button-up and slacks.

“It’s over, Cas.” Dean recovered from the momentary shock, rolling his shoulders back and preparing himself for a fight.

“We’ve come to take you back with us.” Sam reaffirmed from behind him, stepping a bit closer in a protective stance.

“Sam?” Cas’ eyes flickered to him, head tilting in confusion as he let the door fall open a bit wider and stepped onto the front porch, ignoring the immediate tension rippling through the brothers, their weapons held tightly before them. “How did you find me?”

“We’ve been tracking you for a while, Cas. Following the string of dead bodies you’ve been leaving behind.” Dean replied, holding his ground firmly.

Cas sighed, leaned forward to sweep his gaze over the property, and swung the squeaky door fully open, gesturing for them to step inside. “I think you should come in.”

“Uh,” Dean glanced back at his brother, keeping one eye on Cas. He had been expecting the angel to jump them in a murderous rage. This mild-mannered, familiar Cas that greeted them had thrown him majorly off-course and he felt aimless, unable to grasp onto a new plan. Sam appeared just as perturbed.

“It’s okay, really.” Cas soothed, voice calm and eyes squinty and everything about him just way way too familiar. “We need to talk and I’d rather not do it out in the open.”

“Alright- you first, Hannibal Lecter.” Dean conceded, watching Cas’ movements carefully as he re-entered the house and stood just beyond the doorway, waiting patiently for the brothers to follow him.

Dean stepped deliberately over the threshold, as if expecting some sort of booby-trap to spring up and capture him by the ankles. He left out a sigh of relief after he had both feet securely on the wood-paneled floor.

The interior was just as small as the exterior had suggested; a stone fireplace was snuggled into the corner opposite the impractically small kitchen, which was along the back wall and contained nothing more than a small countertop and what appeared to be a bin affixed with a washboard. To their immediate right were two ratty armchairs and a loveseat, framing the fireplace.

Cas crossed the room in three short strides and sat in one of the chairs, looking at the brothers expectantly. Sam and Dean followed his lead with apprehension, sitting together on the loveseat that groaned dangerously under their combined weight.

“So,” Cas started, leaning forward in his seat and clasping his hands together over his knees, “What questions do you have?”

Sam and Dean were silent for a long and uncomfortable stretch of time, both completely thrown by the situation they had walked into. Cas was supposed to be a wild creature; frothing at the mouth and driven insane by the Mark- not this aberrantly calm and composed Cas that was sitting across from them with his sleeves perfectly buttoned at the cuffs and his tie hanging loose around his neck.

“How about- what the hell is going on?” Dean demanded.

“Well, in short- I’m on a case.” Cas replied over his joined hands.

“A case?” Sam questioned, voice carrying a little too loud for the small room. “Cas- _you are the case_.”

“Yes, I can see why you’d think that,” Cas addressed him as if he was commenting on the state of the weather, “I am, in fact, hunting a shapeshifter. One that has taken my form and has been wreaking havoc across the better half of the midwest for nearly three months.”

“You’re hunting- a shifter?” Dean repeated haltingly.

“Yes,” Cas replied briskly, eyes narrowing at Dean for a fraction of a second before going soft again. “I have no proof, unfortunately. Nothing but my word.”

Dean turned to his brother with wide eyes, a feeling eerily similar to hope beginning to bubble up under his skin. Sam’s face mirrored his own as he chewed on his bottom lip anxiously.

“Why did you leave?”

Cas sat back in his chair abruptly as if the words had thrown him there, and rubbed a hand over his brow tiredly. “I’d thought that was pretty obvious, Dean.”

“I know, I get why you left- I mean why didn’t you come back to m- us?”

“I didn’t plan on ever going back. Admittedly, it was hard to contain the- _urges_ \- brought forward by the Mark at first. But I was able to do it on my own. I didn’t need your help, Dean, and you were smothering me.” Again Cas’ eyes narrowed and something flashed through them, but it was gone too quick to be sure it was really there. “And then I ran into the shifter. I wasn’t even trying to hunt- I just stumbled into the middle of it when I was traveling through some desert city in southern Nevada. He got away from me there and has been taunting me by killing people with my body ever since. Honestly, I think tracking him has kept my mind so preoccupied that I haven’t had time to worry about the Mark.” He looked up at Dean, “I figured, at that point, even if I wanted to go back I would look far too incriminating. It would be too hard to convince you that those attacks weren’t really me and you’d lock me away- or kill me.”

Dean flinched, hand curling into tight fists in his lap. “We wouldn’t have killed you, Cas. We would have listened- how could you think-”

Cas waved a dismissive hand, silencing him. “It doesn’t matter, Dean. You’re here now, and have at least given me a chance to explain myself.”

“Does that mean that you’ll come back with us?” Dean tried to keep his voice even but he was sure he heard it waver embarrassingly.

Cas let out a heavy sigh, shoulders sagging under the motion. “I have to finish this hunt. This shifter… he’s demented, and much too intelligent. He needs to be stopped- you’ve seen what he’s done.”

“Right- well, we’ll help.” Dean replied.

Cas looked to Sam who nodded in agreement. “Yeah, of course, Cas.”

“Alright…” Cas spoke slowly as he rose from his chair. “That’s fine. You are free to stay in this cabin with me, though there isn’t an abundance of room and there are few provisions.”

Sam stood as well, giving Cas a warm smile. “That’s okay, we’ve slept in worse before. And we have stuff out in the car we can bring here.” He looked down to Dean expectantly, who was still sitting, eyes focused on Cas.

“Yeah- you think you can handle that on your own, Sammy?” Dean lowered his voice imploringly as he kept glancing toward the angel.

Sam looked at him for a long moment. “Can we talk outside, quick?”

“What for?” Dean snapped, but stood and followed him out of the cabin all the same.

“Dean,” Sam started once he determined they were far enough from the building, “Are you sure about this?”

“About what?”

“Cas- I mean, are you sure it’s really him? That story is pretty convenient. I just- something definitely seems off about him.”

“He’s been alone for three months, Sam. Chasing after some deranged shifter. Of course he’s a little off!”

Sam considered this for a moment, glancing back at the cabin. “I guess you’re right…”

“Listen,” Dean met his eyes. “If there’s even the smallest chance that is all Cas, that he’s even partially there… I just- I need to talk to him, Sam.”

“Alright,” Sam sighed in resignation. “Just be careful, okay?”

“Always am.” Dean flashed him a too-wide smile and Sam rolled his eyes.

“It shouldn’t take me too long to get to the car and back, now that I know the way.”

“Right- I’ll see you in a bit.” Dean replied but Sam didn’t leave, hesitated and looked back at the cabin again.

“Just- seriously, don’t let your guard down.” Sam cautioned gravely. “I know it’s Cas, but if he _has_ turned… then he’s even more dangerous than if he was a mindless killing machine.”

Dean felt a cold, foreboding shiver whisper over him as he watched his brother disappear back through the trees.

“Cas,” Dean called out as he re-entered the cabin. The angel was standing on the opposite side of the place, his back turned to him. Dean crossed the room and reached out a hand to settle on his shoulder, pulling away quickly when he felt Cas tense up at the touch.

He took a deep breath, trying to read the solemn line of the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

Cas tilted his head to the side, and though Dean couldn’t see his face he could imagine he was squinting in that way of his.

“I didn’t mean to… smother you, Cas. I was trying to help- I just, I couldn’t… I was,” his voice failed him for a second before coming back quiet and timid, “I was so damn scared. Of you losing it and- and of losing you.”

“Dean,” Cas started, turning to face him. His face was unreadable until a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “It’s okay. I- I wasn’t very happy with you at first and I’m still not, really. But I understand.”

“It’s not okay, Cas. I just-,” Dean shuffled closer, trying to be mindful of his personal space but unable to control the inexorable need to be closer. “I was so damn worried about you. I- I missed you.”

Cas tilted his head in that painfully familiar way again, face going soft as he regarded Dean. “I missed you, too.”

Dean let out a shaky, wet laugh and dropped his chin to his chest, gaze cast to the floor. He watched Cas’ feet shift closer to him, their shoes almost touching, and his head snapped back up when he felt Cas touch his arm.

“It’s been hard, being away. Being alone.” Cas squeezed his arm once before letting go, but didn’t move away.

“You should have just come home.” Dean replied, his throat constricting hotly around the words. “I know I messed up, I- I was overprotective and an ass and I’m sorry. But you gotta know- all I wanted was to help. I couldn’t stand the thought of watching you go crazy and knowing what I’d have to do… what you made me promise.”

“Everything’s okay, Dean. I’m fine.” Cas shifted even closer, throwing his arms around Dean’s back and pulling him into a hug.

Dean felt all of the tension he’d been harboring over the last few months melt away as he sank into the contact, burying his face in Cas’ neck and pulling him tighter against him.

Cas was whispering a quiet mantra of ‘it’s okay’, soft and soothing as he smoothed his hands over Dean’s back. Dean let out a sigh, breath ghosting over Cas’ neck as he pressed even closer, nose skimming the skin under his jaw.

Dean couldn’t help himself- he blamed the euphoria of finding Cas sane and alive, of all of those months of dread and sick anxiety lifting and leaving him light and untethered. Some kind of blissful adrenaline was rushing over him, making him dizzy and his mind fuzzy and Cas was so warm and familiar. So, he really couldn’t help himself when he pressed forward the mere centimeter it took for his lips to brush lightly against the skin of Cas’ neck.

Cas froze up, hands stilling over Dean’s shoulder blades and his breath hitching and Dean immediately regretted it. He was blushing deeply when he pulled away, embarrassed beyond belief and ready to fling himself off a cliff. What the hell was he thinking? Cas had left because he had been mad at Dean, and he even said he still wasn’t happy with him. Dean had pushed him to a breaking point with his emotional immaturity and inability to parse out how to balance his desire to protect those he loves without wanting to stick them in a plastic bubble and hide them away from the world. It was a demeaning and ridiculous thing to expect from people, especially someone like Cas who strived to prove his worth, over and over again, and who Dean knew was more than capable of taking care of himself.

And then they find him, after _months_ of looking and assuming he was stark-raving mad and ripping apart bodies all across the country, and Dean tries to _make a move_? _Now_? He was seriously fucked in the head.

“I’m sorry, Cas, I-”

But apparently Cas was just as messed up as he was, because he shut him up by fisting his hands in his shirt and pulling him forward with just a little too much strength, their lips meeting with a bruising force as Dean gasped against them.

Dean didn’t hesitate after the initial wave of shock wore off, his hands coming around to Cas’ chest and gripping desperately at his shirt. He was helpless as Cas pushed him up against the edge of the kitchen counter, rough and a little frantic. He pinned him there with his bodyweight, and the angle set Cas a little taller than him so Dean really had to arch into it, pushing to get closer.

Cas twined a hand into Dean’s hair and pulled his head back roughly, making him gasp and open his mouth to let him in even further.

“ _Holy shit_.” Dean sighed, squirming as Cas gripped the back of his thigh with one hand, pulling his legs open wide enough to wedge his knee between them.

His mouth left Dean’s to trail down the sensitive skin of his neck- overwhelming and almost brutal- Cas’ teeth digging into the juncture of his shoulder, his collarbone, and sinking into his bottom lip as he licked his way back into his mouth.

None of It was nothing like Dean had, admittedly, _maybe_ , imagined once or twice before. He had thought Cas would be more reserved, that he’d have to draw him out. Not that he’d have him pressed against a counter, moaning embarrassingly into his mouth and rocking mindlessly against him in less than five seconds. Dean felt like he was drowning, struggling to stay above water as Cas virtually devoured him. It was so different from everything Dean had come to expect from him that it set off tiny alarm bells in the back of his mind- though they were quickly silenced when Cas slipped a hand under his shirt and started dragging his fingernails over his skin.

When Cas finally pulled away, Dean was pulling in deep breaths of air, working to keep himself vertical as his head swam. He could taste the warm copper of blood when he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and he was sure his face was as red as it felt.

Cas was perfectly composed, minus the slight wrinkle where Dean had been clinging to his shirt, as he took a step back- far enough so Dean could clearly see his face. There was a beat where Cas’ face was soft and kind, if a little flushed, and his eyes filled with something that made Dean’s chest clench. And then he blinked, and his features dropped into a cold and distant mask that looked so wrong it made Dean’s blood run cold and rose goosebumps over his skin.

Cas’ lips twitched into a smile sharp as the jagged edges of a saw, and a laugh like nothing Dean had ever heard before rumbled from his throat.

“Wow!” Cas exclaimed, his eyes going comically wide and teasing. “That was- that was _something_ , huh?”

“Wh- what?” Dean was gripping the edge of the counter beneath him, his knuckles turning white.

“I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting you to be so… submissive.” Cas continued, taunting as he leaned threateningly over him.

“Shit.” Dean felt the blood drain out of his face as his brain, sluggish and hazy and still reveling in the feel of Cas, caught up to the situation. This was not Cas. Not the Cas he knew, anyway.

“God- it was _so hard_ pretending to be “normal”.” Cas exclaimed, mouth still set in that mad and eerie smile and Dean flinched away from him, pressing his back further into the counter. “It was fun though, wasn’t it?”

“Cas-” Dean started, making to step away from the counter.

“Don’t!” Cas snarled, and suddenly his angel blade was pressing incessantly into Dean’s throat. “Don’t move- just-” Cas seemed to struggle with himself as he looked into Dean’s eyes. “Stay right fucking there.”

Dean shut his mouth, watching with apprehension as Cas took several steps back and began pacing the floor. His heart was in his throat, right at the spot where Cas had pressed his blade, beating frantically.

“I have been waiting for so long for you to catch up with me.” Cas stopped abruptly and turned to Dean with a vicious, mocking sneer. “Took you long enough.”

“I can’t- you, you killed all of those people.” Dean stuttered, voice weak with shock.

“Yeah,” Cas replied, nonchalant as he resumed his agitated pacing. “I didn’t last long after I left- about three days before I gutted a woman in southern Nevada.”

Dean could feel his vision swimming as he gripped the counter again to keep himself upright.

“It was… difficult- at first. I still had this nagging little piece of conscience left that kept whining at me as I was cutting into her. Don’t worry,” his gaze turned predatory as he stepped closer to Dean again, “it’s gone now. I’ll have no qualms over killing you or your brother. Infact, I’ve been planning this out for a while.”

“You knew we were following you?” Dean responded, watching warily as he continued to move closer.

“Of course. You’re really not as subtle as you think you are. Besides- I may have lost my inhibitions, but I still know everything about you both.” Cas smiled lecherously at him as he invaded his personal space again, close enough that his breath was ghosting over Dean’s ear. “I know what makes you tick.” He ran a hand down the smooth, exposed column of Dean’s neck, stopping at the hollow of his throat and Dean couldn’t repress the shudder- composed of half-fear, half-desire- that ran down his spine. “If it makes you feel any better, I wanted this- before the Mark- I wanted _you_. It seems a bit ridiculous now… but still, it’s _almost_ sad that I have to kill you, I think.” He stepped back abruptly, fixing Dean with an expression of near melancholy.

Dean closed his eyes, swallowing down a painful lump in his throat. “Cas,” he started, broken and pleading, “Cas, please. This isn’t you-”

He was cut off by a sharp burst of pain blossoming from his ribcage. Cas had punched him, hard, causing his breath to leave his lungs in a rush as he fell forward onto Cas, who caught him easily. He held his shoulders almost gently as Dean doubled over, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Dean.”

Dean grit his teeth through the pain and pushed himself up, glaring. Cas simply stared back, his eyes wide and mad.

“Whatever bond we suffered from that managed to pull me back to you time and time again in the past was broken a while ago. Probably around the time I cut into that girl from De Soto.” Cas laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder, mockingly molding his fingers to the handprint under his shirt. “You remember her?”

Dean grimaced, his stomach turning in coupled pain and horror as he recalled the young girl who’d been gutted in the small Kansas town. It had been a week or two since Leaville and they’d been tracking gruesome murders, assumed to be a trail Cas was leaving in his wake. Her name was Tara and she was found in the bathroom of a Super 8. Couldn’t have been more than sixteen. Dean, who had been witness to more graphic and grotesque violence than he could accurately remember in his life, had been forced to leave the scene after only a few minutes- swallowing back acidic bile that rose to his throat at the sight of her. He and Sam hadn’t even been sure she was killed by the same person they’d been tracking- and if she was, then their technique was changing. Becoming more brutal- almost like they were devolving.

Having it confirmed that Cas had actually done that… Dean felt his head spin, vision blurry as the combined shock and pain in his ribs threatened to knock him out.

“That was when I finally- _really_ let go,” Cas sighed, almost blissfully. “It was such a fucking relief. I’ve come so far since then, too. Learned so many things I can’t wait to try out on you and Sam.”

Dean felt the danger in his words, a cold and demented kind of darkness that was nothing but an empty void- sucking in and devouring all that came near it, and it made him flinch. He shoved at Cas’ chest as he continued to advance towards him and tried to scramble backward. Trapped as he was against the counter, there wasn’t anywhere for him to go. Dean’s throat dried up as he caught the silver gleam of Cas’ angel blade, rising slowly until the tip dug into his chest with enough pressure to make him hiss through his teeth.

“Ca- Cas.”

“Ah, ah,” Cas applied more pressure and Dean gasped as he felt it break skin. “As amusing as I’m convinced it would be to hear you muddle your way through some half-assed speech about ‘family’ and ‘free will’- I think I’ve had enough foreplay.”

Cas twitched his wrist in a motion that drew the blade in a long line from the end of one collarbone to the other, tearing through Dean’s shirt and splitting his flesh into a wide gash. Cas grinned, biting his lip as he watched the blood well up, just a thin line of it and not too deep, but enough to bead up and trickle from the wound.

“Dean!”

The sound of the front door slamming in it’s frame caused Cas to step back, arms falling to his sides.

“Sam!” Dean shouted, wincing at the pain in his ribs. “It’s- he played us, Sam! It’s been Cas the whole time. The Mark-”

Cas rolled his eyes, his back facing Sam as he lunged forward, sinking his blade to the hilt into Dean’s left shoulder.

Dean cried out, vision going white as Cas withdrew as quickly as he had struck, sword sluicing back through Dean’s flesh with a wet squelch as he turned to Sam.

“You’re just in time, Sam. I was just getting to the good part.”

“Cas,” Sam lowered his voice urgently, holding his hands up to show he was unarmed. “Come on, man. We can talk about this.”

Cas’ eye twitched in irritation as he took a slow step towards him. Dean slumped against the counter, right hand pressed over the gushing wound as he fought to stay conscious.

“I’ve listened to the two of you talk at me for long enough. I thought I was doing the right thing- the _honorable_ thing- by following you both around like a whipped dog,” he took a moment to throw his head back in unhinged laughter, “what a fucking joke! Look at me now,” Cas spread his arms wide, bloody sword dripping onto the uneven hardwood in a rhythmic _plop, plop, plop_.

“I don’t need either of you- I never really did. Now that I’m rid of my nagging sentimentality, I can finally put an end to you simpering, idiotic do-gooders.”

Sam’s eyes widened as they flickered wildly between Cas and Dean- the latter of whom was turning dangerously pale and breathing heavily. “Cas you don’t really believe that. This is the Mark talking- you’re family, man. We love you.”

Another, even more demented peel of laughter worked its way out of Cas, his face strangely pained. “You’ve never loved anyone but each other- above everything and everyone _always_. So don’t spew your bleeding heart bullshit at me, Sam Winchester. I know you. I’ve always known that I’m nothing more than a tool to the both of you- I didn’t need the Mark to open my eyes to that. It only gave me the means to finally stop fucking caring about it. About what either of you think about me- to stop agonizing over every decision I make because,” he clasped his hands together and simpered, “‘what would Sam and Dean think’?”

“Cas- none of that is true! You’re not a tool to us- you’re the closest thing to family I have besides Dean. You’ve been there for us through so much- you can’t possibly believe we actually think so little of you. This is nothing but the Mark exaggerating things, Cas. I know, in the past, things haven’t always been the best between the three of us but that’s what family is! They fight and they disagree but at the end of the day that doesn’t mean they love each other any less. And I know that we haven’t always been the clearest about your place in our lives, and that’s definitely on us- all of those feelings of self-doubt and not belonging- but I’m telling you right now, Cas- you are so much more than what you can do for us. I know you know that- and I know you care about us, too. I know you care about Dean- this is nothing but the Mark twisting all of the good inside of you into hatred, can’t you see that?”

Cas’ face was blank, his body unmoving as he listened. Sam thought he might have seen a spark of something familiar come over his face, but it flickered out quickly. He looked to his brother, now sitting in a pool of his own blood behind Cas, and felt a wave of urgency.

“Cas- Cas look at me.” He did, slowly, like he was fighting against something. “Dean is going to die if you don’t let me help him.”

Sam really saw it this time- a moment where something other than demented pain crossed over Cas’ face. Something that looked like fear and desperation and confusion. Sam blinked and took a cautious step forward with his arms still raised non-threateningly.

“Cas,” he spoke quietly, as if to a wild animal. “I know you don’t really want to do this. Look at Dean- he’s seriously hurt.”

Cas flinched, but turned his head over his shoulder to look at Dean, whose eyes were flickering as he fought to keep them open, one blood soaked hand pressed weakly over his shoulder. Cas was alarmingly still compared to the manic exuberance he had been exhibiting, his body tense as he fought himself.

“I-” The clatter of his blade falling to the floor was louder than it should have been; echoing clearly through the small cabin.

Sam heaved a sigh of relief and rushed past Cas to his brother’s side, taking his face in his hands. “Dean?”

His head lolled a bit before his eyes shuttered open, focusing past his brother and on Cas. When their eyes met- Dean’s full of pain and fear- it lifted the fog in Cas’ mind and he was lucid for a fleeting moment, just long enough for the gravity of his actions to sink in.

“Dean, I- aaaahhhhh!” Cas’ words were cut short as a searing pain tore through his arm, radiating from the Mark and burning out through his body. He fell to his knees, clutching his arm until his vision blacked out.

* * *

“I’m not sure about this, Dean.”

“This is the only way, Sam. Trust me, I don’t like it anymore than you do, but it’s what has to be done.”

“Cas is family! We can’t just give up on him… besides, he was coming around to himself again before he passed out at the cabin.”

“He’s not Cas anymore. He’s a ticking time bomb, Sam!”

“He’s still Cas! He’s in there, Dean- I saw it. I saw him, trying to fight through.”

“It’s too damn strong. I remember what it was like- I wasn’t nearly as far gone as he is and I almost lost myself more times than I can count. Cas is strong- stronger than me if he was able to fight it at this point, but those moments are going to be few and far between before they disappear completely. It will take him, completely, and then we’ll have no hope of stopping him.”

“There has to be something… some way to get rid of it without releasing Chuck. Or maybe a way to trap Chuck in something that isn’t a vessel…”

“Sam, enough. Cas didn’t even want to get this bad before we intervened. He’d be devastated by what he’s done and you know that. We can’t let him hurt anyone else.”

“Like this, though? Is this really the only way?”

“The Ma’lak box is the only thing strong enough to hold him. We can’t k- kill him, you know that. This is the only option.”

“Dean…”

“Don’t. I’m going to- I’m going to bury him. Tonight”

“Bury him? You’re not dumping it in the ocean? Oh- it’d be easier to dig him up than pull him out of the water...just… just in case.”

“Right…”

“Let me come with you, Dean. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“No, Sam. I do.”

* * *

It was well after dark when Dean parked the Impala over a clump of dead leaves and jagged gravel. He hadn’t driven far along the line of trees before finding a good place. Not that the place mattered. But he figured a strong, solid oak tree with branches sprawling up towards the sky like they were reaching for the heavens was as good a place as any.

In the dark, past the reach of the car’s headlights, everything was inky black against matte black, shapes amorphous and unrecognizable in the abyss.

He cut the ignition and pulled a shovel out of the back seat.

Dean had dug hundreds of graves in his lifetime. He didn’t remember it taking so long.

By the time he was done he was covered in dirt and sweat, his injured shoulder aching so bad it was nearly numb and his ribs burning. The physical pain was an easy out though, something sharp and raw to focus on besides his frayed nerves and the throbbing, aching chasm in his chest.

“Dean?” Cas squinted up at him from the trunk as Dean opened it. He was balled up awkwardly in order to fit in the cramped space, looking small and vulnerable and Dean rolled his shoulder to tug at the dental floss stitches in his skin to distract from the tightness in his throat. He reached down wordlessly and wrapped a hand around his bicep, pulling him from the car and onto his feet.

The sky had cleared up a bit since he’d parked, and the moon sat fat and round above them, illuminating the fear in Cas’ eyes when they fell upon the empty grave, Ma’lak box sitting open and empty beside it.

“No,” he whispered, tugging his wrists against the angel cuffs around them so hard they would have bitten into his skin if he were human. “Dean, no.”

Dean put a forceful hand between his shoulder blades and pushed him forward. Cas tripped over his feet, nearly face-planting into the wet, rotted leaves.

“Dean, Dean- _please_.” He spun around quickly and raised his hands together, grabbing onto Dean’s shoulders. His eyes were wide and brimming with dread, his lip quivering as he choked on his next words. “Y-you can’t. It’s me, I’m in here.”

Dean blinked back the urge to pull him into his chest, tuck him under his chin and lead him back to the car.

“Dean,” Cas continued to beg as Dean moved them slowly backward, keeping his eyes fixed on the box over Cas’ shoulder, it’s metal glowing strangely in the moonlight. “ _Wait_.”

Cas pushed back, hard, causing Dean to come to a full stop. The hands in his shirt flattened, thumbs tracing the hollow of his throat. Dean couldn’t stop the shiver that worked over his body, closing his eyes against it and leaning just slightly into the touch.

Cas smiled, so warm and open, so fucking vulnerable; god, it was beautiful. Dean had to fight against everything in him to keep from turning them around and driving away from there as fast as he possibly could. They could stay together, somewhere far away from everyone, and Dean could watch over him until it became impossible and he could let Cas destroy him. But then there would be no one to stop him, and Cas would burn the world. He couldn’t let the memory of who Cas had been be mutilated by what he was becoming- had become, really. Cas was _good_ , at his very core- even if he didn’t always get it right, he tried harder than anyone Dean had ever met to do good. This thing, it wasn’t Cas. It was a perverted version of him, maring and dismantling everything Cas had stood for.

Dean’s face softened as he let himself look over his friend’s face for the last time. Cas, reading something different in his expression, smiled even wider and pressed closer, their noses brushing.

“I love you.” Cas whispered over his lips and Dean let out a wet, desperate sound that landed somewhere between laughter and a sob.

“I love you too, Cas.” His voice was barely audible, strangled by the tightness in his chest and clawing its way out with painful talons that left Dean completely ripped apart.

Cas blinked rapidly, drawing back slightly as the fogginess of the Mark cleared for a moment, leaving him lucid.

“Dean,” Cas looked over his shoulder at the box before holding his gaze. “Thank you.”

Dean lurched forward, tugging at Cas with a driving desperation as he brought their mouths together. It was soft, despite the choked fear tugging in Dean’s gut. Cas relaxed against him quickly, bringing his cuffed hands up to hold his jaw lightly. Dean could feel wetness welling up in his eyes, flowing unbidden down his face. Cas pulled back, wiped his tears away and leaned reluctantly out of his space.

Dean tightened his arms around him reflexively, resting their foreheads together and pinching his eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Cas,” he sniffed embarrassingly, wiping at his face with one hand.

“Don’t be,” Cas replied softly, breath stuttering when he felt a stab of pain in his arm. “You’d better do it now. I won’t go so willingly, soon.”

“Right,” Dean nodded, inhaling shakily as he tried to steady himself, stepping away from Cas and spinning back around. There was a resistance in Cas’ muscles as they drew closer, close enough for him to get him in now.

Dean’s hands were shaky as they stood at the edge of the dark grave.

* * *

“While we waited the victims… they all died, they bled out on the floor. Ya know if Cas was still here he could have healed them…”

“Yeah well he’s not.”

_I wish you were, Cas._

* * *

“You wanna quit? What’s happened to you, Dean… ever since…

“Ever since what? We lost pretty much everyone we’ve ever cared about, ever since the Mark made Cas go crazy and I had to bury him in a Ma’lak box… ever since then?”

_I’m sorry, Cas._

* * *

_Hey Cas._

_I hope you can still hear me. That you’re still you enough to maybe… care. I miss you, man. With just me and Sam… we need you around to keep the peace. Even though you weren’t always on my side- at least we had a tiebreaker. Since Eileen, Sam has been chaotic. He rushes into things, throws everything into it. I know he’s hoping every hunt will be his last._

_I am too. I have been, ever since…_

_I told him I want to stop, that I can’t keep going like this. Things are getting worse and worse out there… the monsters are everywhere and they’re ruthless. We’re losing, Cas. It doesn’t feel real, after everything we’ve sacrificed, everything you sacrificed… getting rid of Chuck was supposed to solve everything. And what do we have now? Almost all of our friends are dead or wish they were. And you…_

_Sam is hell-bent on going after this pack of werewolves, even after I told him it was hopeless. I know he’s not going to stand-by and do nothing and if we go after them… I have a feeling it might be our last. If it is, if this is the last chance I get to- I know it’s stupid, but if you can hear me, if you still care…_

_I wish things had been different, Cas. I wish I hadn’t spent my whole life being embarrassed about who I am and what I want. I know it wouldn’t change a damn thing about the state of the world right now, but at least we could have… we would have had something to remember._

_I don’t know, maybe it would have made things worse in the end. Maybe I really wouldn’t have been able to- to bury you. Maybe I would have thrown myself down in that damn hole with you. Sometimes I wish I would have anyways, for all the good I’ve been since._

_The worst part is that even when I do go, when these monsters finally overtake us, what’s even waiting for me on the other side? Cause it ain’t you. And that’s just…_

_I can hear Sam coming, better wrap this up._

_Just know, whatever happens, if things go wrong on this hunt and you don’t hear from me again…_

_I love you. I have for too damn long, and I will even when I’m locked away in my own private corner of heaven- when all of this is over. I will even if I never get to see you again._

_Alright…_

_Bye, Cas._

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


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